


One... Two...

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Burns, Death, Dreams, Drowning, F/M, Fear, Fire, Gore, Horror, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Violence, injuries, suffocating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:17:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: There are only two films that give me nightmares. This is based on one of them - a horror called “They”. If you’re brave, watch it. If you’re scared of the dark, don’t. If Nightmare On Elm Street scared you, don't read.





	One... Two...

 

*****

“You were crying again last night,” Dean murmured, sitting as close to you as possible. “Could hear you through the wall.”

You shrugged, looking down at your coffee with bleary eyes. It was the same most mornings. Decent sleep avoided you like the plague, and recently, the nightmares had been getting worse; more vivid and disturbing. Sometimes it was hard to shake the feel of them for the whole day, and you started to dread going to sleep. “I know, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not looking at him. “I’m a bit old for night terrors.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked, leaning into you with a friendly smile. You shook your head, standing up and heading to pour your cold coffee away - it wouldn’t do you any good anyway. “Y/N… you know, if something is upsetting you -”

“I’m fine, Dean,” you smiled, putting as much into your tone as you could to make it believable. “It’s just a nightmare.”

His mouth was a thin line but he didn’t say anything else, and you left him behind, ambling down to your room to get dressed for the day. With no cases, you’d decided to spend some downtime in the armory, researching the various weapons you and Sam had pulled out the other day.

Hours passed, and you fell asleep at the table in the armory, exhaustion getting the best of you. As REM sleep took hold, the nightmares came back, and you were alone, in a burning room, reaching out to try and save Dean from the flames. He was lost to you - he always was - and something grabbed your ankle, dragging you away from him.

A solid punch to the side of your head was followed by the feel of fire on your bare legs and you screamed loudly, jolting awake. Your heart was pounding, and you were sweating, clinging to the table like it was a lifeline.

Sam appeared a second later, skidding to a halt, concern on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning at you. He raised an hand before you could protest, checking your forehead. “No fever. You’re slightly warm,” he offered, a lopsided smile replacing his frown. “Did you fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, shaking your head to try and clear the last of the flames from your mind. “Just a nightmare.” You smiled at him, standing straight. “I think I’m done in here today,” you announced, just as Dean appeared in the doorway. “Hey,” you greeted him, and he held up the Impala keys.

“Wanna get food?” he asked, and you nodded brightly, ignoring Sam’s worried look.

A few minutes later and you were in the car with Dean, singing along to the AC/DC tape he hadn’t changed in forever. Absently, you scratched at your ankle, pulling your knees up to get at it better.

“You got a bite or something?” Dean commented, glancing over at you with a smile. “You’re going to town there.”

You shrugged, dropping your feet back down, ignoring the tingling of the itch demanding to be scratched. “Probably. Some of the places we end up -” you shuddered, “yeesh.” Dean chuckled at that, putting his foot down a little more. The big blue lights of Walmart shone in the distance, and he took a right, turning onto a main road lined with small stores and businesses. You watched the scenery fly by, relaxing in your seat.

Dean pulled the car into the parking lot at Walmart and killed the engine, turning to look at you. “You actually gonna come and sleep in our room tonight?” he asked, and you gave him a small smile.

“I really don’t wanna disturb you…” you started, trailing off when he shook his head.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t disturbing me. I’m worried about these nightmares.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted. “Just bad dreams. It’s not exactly been an easy year.” He remained silent at that, before reaching out to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you. “I got you, you know that.” It was his three words, better than  _ those _ three words in your opinion, and you smiled, accepting the kiss. You both remained there for a few seconds, taking comfort in each other. When Dean pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were glazed. “Please come back to our bed tonight.”

“Fine. But if I think for one second I’m keeping you awake -”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. “I’ll just hug you extra tight.”

*****

_ Run, run, run, run. _

You weren’t fast enough. The black shape lumbered out of the shadow, features indistinguishable except for one shrivelled and clawed hand reaching for you. A scream split the air as the wicked talon dragged down your thigh, shredding the muscle and sending you to the ground. Blood poured from the wound, and you sobbed, dragging yourself along the floor.

The creature was on you now, and you thought it said your name.

God, the pain was so  _ real _ . 

_ Wake up. _

Your eyes snapped open, but the pain from your dream didn’t disappear. The sheets were turning red with your blood and Dean was screaming for help. You wanted to scream, but all you could do was shiver, your skin losing color rapidly as Dean tried to stem the bleeding with the sheets.

“Fuck, baby, hang on.”

*****

The wound required seventy stitches and a trip to the emergency room. You were exhausted and high on painkillers, but you could hear the boys talking. Dean’s low rumbling tone flowed through your body where you were laid across his lap. The soothing talk and the rhythmic stroking of his hand on your hair was enough to keep your eyes shut.

You were floating, drifting away.

“We gotta figure out what’s going on, Sam,” Dean murmured, watching your eyes move under their lids. “If she has another nightmare…”

“We’ll gank whatever it is, Dean, I promise,” Sam replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Stay awake for me, baby,” Dean urged, bending awkwardly to kiss your temple. You sighed and smiled, ignoring his words.

*****

The building was burning around you, and you screamed, trying to run. Every exit was blocked, and debris was falling around you. The heat was immense, and you cried out again, growing weaker by the second.

_ Wake up. _

Nothing happened. Bits of brick landed by your feet, flaming insulation coming down swiftly on top of it, sending embers and sparks up into your face. Your eyes stung like hell, and you curled down, keeping low.

A single wooden beam splintered, cracked and dropped, landing across your legs and pinning you down. Another screech left your throat, and you -

“Wake up!”

Dean’s voice made you shriek, and you sat up, slapping at your legs to stop the fire from burning you. Large hands covered yours, assisting in putting out the flames, and by the time they were extinguished, your lower legs were burned, and the pain was agonizing.

The Impala screeched to a halt, and doors slammed as Sam moved from the driver’s seat, helping Dean to get you flat on the backseat before grabbing the first aid kit from the trunk.

“We gotta go back to the hospital,” he said, pulling the burned fabric from your scalded flesh. “These are bad.” His finger brushed the edge of one rapidly swelling blister and you screamed, clinging to Dean, who held you fast, kissing your forehead as you sobbed.

“We can’t go back. How’s that gonna look?” Dean growled, glancing at Sam. “We’re gonna have to treat ourselves until we can get hold of Cas, or figure out what the hell is going on.”

You whimpered, fingers digging into Dean’s jacket as Sam started to triage your wounds. “There was fire… the building was coming down,” you whispered, and Dean frowned down at you. “The nightmare.”

“Sam?” Dean grunted Sam’s name, and the younger man looked up from what he was doing. “You ever hear of dreams that come true?”

“Mara can manifest pain and fear, but not…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Not to this extent. These are serious wounds, Dean. Whatever it is, it’s trying to kill her.”

“Can we use dream root?” Dean asked, and Sam shook his head again.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He returned to his task, and you shuddered, crying out in pain as he worked. When he pulled out the morphine stash, you screamed, shaking your head. “No painkillers? Y/N, this is a really bad wound -”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep,” you gasped, clinging to Dean even harder; he’d probably have bruises from your touch. “I can’t fall asleep.” Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded. The morphine was put away, and Sam stood straight.

“That’s the best I can do. I really think -”

“No hospitals,” you murmured, loud enough for him to hear. “Just take me home, please,” you begged, and Sam nodded, closing the back door, and climbing back into the driver’s seat.

*****

Castiel was waiting at the bunker when you returned, his concern written over his face. “Y/N…”

“We called you, man!” Dean snapped, cutting him off. “Where the hell were you?”

“I was otherwise engaged,” Cas grunted back, “but I came as soon as I could.” He moved closer to you, motioning for Sam to put you on the war room table. It wouldn’t be the first, or the last time, the table had this use. “I can heal your wounds. What attacked you?”

“We don’t know,” Sam offered, his shoulders sagging uselessly. “We don’t think it’s a Mara, but we need to figure out what kind of creature it is.” You trembled as Cas placed his warm hands on your wounds, wincing at the pain shooting through you.

Light and warmth filled the immediate space around you, and the pain lifted, your wounds knitting and healing in seconds. A sigh of relief left you, and you smiled your thanks at Castiel as you sat up. Dean was at your side in a flash, helping you down from the table. “May I suggest some rest?” the angel said, touching your arm lightly.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” you muttered in reply, shaking your head and burying your face in Dean’s chest.

“Not sleep. Rest. One of us will stay with you, to keep you awake.”

Dean chuckled, leaning in to you. “I’ve got a few ideas to keep you up,” he growled, and you giggled, wishing you had the energy. Cas had healed your body, but you were still exhausted. “Come on, you.” He bent down, literally sweeping you off your feet. You had neither the energy or in the inclination to fight him, and you snuggled into his hold. “We can binge watch all those series we’re supposed to be catching up on.”

*****

You’d been awake for 42 hours, six minutes and eleven seconds.

Everything hurt. You felt sick to your stomach, and your mouth was dry no matter how much water you drank. Your head was pounding, and you wanted nothing more than a nice, peaceful coma.

Sam’s shout from the library made you jerk your head up. Dean sat up straight behind you, clearly disturbed from sleep. “I wasn’t sleeping,” he stated, shaking his head, and you glared at him. He couldn’t help it. Everyone was dead on their feet.

“I found what it is. Y/N - have you had any bites or scratches? Something that’s been itching?” You nodded at Sam, who grew even more excited. “Show me,” he instructed, and you reached down, tugging the side of your yoga pants up. There, on your skin, was a red raw mark in the shape of a triangle. Sam nodded, turning the book around to show you the exact same mark on the parchment. “It’s a child of Nyx.”

“A what?” Dean snapped back, placing one reassuring hand on your lower back as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Dream demons,” Sam simplified, and you took the book from him. “They find a victim and feed on their fear though dreams.”

“So…” Dean pulled a face. “Freddy Krueger.” Your head jerked up, and you glared at Dean. “What? That’s what Freddy did.”

Sam tutted, taking the book back. “Basically, yes. But this is a really severe case. It only gets like this when the creature has starved. They usually feed over a period of months, not days.” 

“Yay,” you raised your arms in a pathetic dance. “Lucky me.”

“How do we kill it?”

Sam shut the book. “Actually, they’re easy to kill. It’s getting them to physically manifest that’s the hard part. Y/N has to be asleep, and we have to perform the spell to make it solid, then stab it.”

“With?”

“Something sharp, I’m assuming,” you joked, yawning widely. “Okay, let’s get on with it.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean held you back, frowning at both you and Sam. “Aren’t we even gonna discuss how dangerous this is?” You gave him a pointed look.

“I either do this and possibly die, or not do anything, and definitely die. And I haven’t even had the Larry the Octopus dream yet.” You shuddered at the thought. “Please, can we do this now?”

*****

Everything around you was cold, and you were floating. When you opened your eyes, it was dark, and you were submerged to your shoulders in water. For miles around, you couldn’t see anything, and fear struck you.

There was a splash in the water behind you and you tried to move but your limbs were frozen from the icy cold water surrounding you. You squinted, trying to see anything but the haze of liquid. Something grabbed your ankle, and you scream was cut off as you went under the surface.

Water filled your lungs as you struggled against the force dragging you down, and you stretched your arms up, as if you could grab the sky and haul yourself free. Everything was so cold, and it felt like you were moving slower and slower…

*****

Dean watched in horror as you choked on water, and it splashed over your cheeks and the sheets either side of your head. Your skin was freezing to the touch, and your lips were tinged blue. The screams you were trying to push out were drowned by the liquid coming from nowhere.

“Sam!”

His brother heard the urgent cry and threw one last ingredient into the bowl. It ignited, and the room shifted, as if all the light were drawn to one spot for a second, then pulsed outwards with pure energy. Sam stumbled backwards, and Castiel drew his angel blade.

The withered creature hissed, pulling it’s lips back over dry, cracking gums that held razor sharp fangs. Dean covered you with his body as Castiel charged, stabbing the thing in the chest. It screeched in rage, and then froze, before crumbling into a pile of sand.

Everything was silent for a second, and Dean pulled back, looking down at you.

“Y/N…”

*****

You were caught in that eternity between your last breath, and the last beat of your heart. Where every memory and experience replayed, and you knew you were dying. Your surroundings changed as you lost consciousness, and you felt warmth start to envelope you.

_ Thump. _

A pressure exploded in your chest. You doubled over, clutching your middle.

_ Thump. _

_ Come on, baby. Don’t you dare… _

_ Thump _ .

The taste of whiskey on your tongue.

_ Thump _ .

Burning air, filling your lungs, and water surging up through your gullet. Your eyes snapped open, and you rocked to the side, spluttering and vomiting sea water onto the bed. Dean was holding you, cupping your face, his cheeks red, and his eyes glistening with tears.

“There you are,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “Thought I’d lost you.”

You grinned, laying back on the pillows. Warmth and contentment filled you, and Sam smiled in your direction, giving you a thumbs up before backing out of the room, taking Cas with him. The door clicked shut, and Dean crawled into bed beside you, holding you close.

“You’re safe now,” Dean whispered, kissing your forehead. Your smile widened, and you knew you’d be safe there forever.

_ I’m sorry, Dean. She’s gone. _


End file.
